


Cat and mouse game

by JaysAndRavens



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Threats of Violence, Unhappy Ending, specific trigger warnings at the start of each chapter, where applicable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaysAndRavens/pseuds/JaysAndRavens
Summary: You need a fresh start. You need one badly. And what could be more refreshing than a new job in Detroit, the center of the Android Liberation Movement? Landing a job as a police officer wasn't easy, but you have your ways, and now you're left to navigate your new life as best you can. But the past follows everywhere, no matter how hard one tries to shake it, and it's claws dig into the backs of those who run the farthest from it. So, what will you do if - or when - it finds you?
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HNNNN idek why I'm posting to here,, it's unlikely I'll gain any traction, heh. Anyway have some old Connor X Fem! Detective!Reader I started a while back. Expect very slow updates for I am a rather lackluster writer. May be discontinued. (Damn that sure was encouraging to new readers lmao...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW -  
> Mention of being shot  
> mention of PTSD  
> mention of murder  
> implied child manipulation (I don' think it's grooming as the intent wasn't sexual, but be aware)  
> gavin being racist towards androids

Your P.O.V:

Moving to a new city is always stressful. I've done it a lot, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but the hassle of packing everything up, arranging moving vans, securing a new place to stay... It just never gets easier even after a thousand go-arounds. At least Detroit was nice enough - it was the center of the Android Liberation Movement, and packed to the edges with interesting culture as a result. Androids here were freer than those in any other state - an amazing feat considering the uprising had only begun a few years ago. I enjoyed my journey here, and had spent the first day looking around a little - they already had some cool memorials erected that I enjoyed taking copious blurry photos of. But now my work would begin, and the time for tourism was officially at its end.

I headed out of the house with my jacket tied around my waist haphazardly. It was late summer, so while it was still hot as hell for the most part, the occasional autumnal breeze would occasionally roll by, so I decided it would probably be best not to be caught off guard.

My commute to work was short, but felt longer as I took the time to admire the commotion of daily life as I passed. It was still so bizarre to see androids roaming around freely, going about their lives the way they wanted to. Not too long ago they were our slaves, and in just a few short years, they had broken free of those boundaries we forced upon them. It was admirable, really. To be able to shed your burdens with sheer force of will. Wish I could get rid of my problems that easily.

By the time I arrived outside Detroit Police Station, I was a little later than is probably advisable for one's first day. I should really keep an eye out for slipups like that, considering what this job meant for me, but I was never one to care too much about anything. Whether that was a weakness or a strength of mine... Well, jury's still out.

I heaved open the large glass doors and looked around. It was a large, strangely crowded room with many desks and doors. Some desks looked newer than others, crammed into corners or bumped up against one another. I guessed they were for the androids who worked here; previously a waiting bay would have been all they got in terms of personal space.

I've never liked particularly busy places, so I tried to shut out the noise and liveliness of the room and searched for the man I'd met at the interview a few weeks prior. I'd come out to Detroit for a few days to speak with him about my employment, and he told me he'd greet me on my first day here. However, whether he'd hold true to that or not was beyond my knowing.

After a few minutes, I decided standing around looking lost probably wouldn't get me anywhere, so I instead took some initative and headed towards the desk nearest to me. A man sat there, leaned back in his chair an alarming amount. He almost looked as though he was trying to sleep, but his hands fiddling with the hoops of his jeans betrayed he was more bored than he was tired.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Captain Fowler. He said he'd meet me since it's my first day." I explained to the man. He cocked an eyebrow at me and sat up, and I finally got a good look at his face.

He had dark brown hair pushed back out of his face, and pale green eyes. In addition to that, he had a small scar over his nose, and a rather unamused expression on his face. Wonder why he hates working so much, I thought.

"He's off overseeing an interrogation right now, he'll be back soon. You can wait for him over by his office," the man nodded to a large pair of doors the other side of the room, "or you can stay and chat with me." 

His face split into a sleazy grin, the likes of which I was all too accustomed to seeing. Ah, yes, I knew this type far too well. Arrogant, selfish, and relentless as a cockroach. I'd dealt with lots of them, and had no patience for them, if I'm honest. I was about to spit out a cold remark when I remembered, this job is supposed to be a fresh start for me, or at the very least a temporary break from everything. I can't go making enemies on the first day. Besides, what if he was actually nice?

"Okay, I'll wait here. You seem bored out of your mind anyhow. Is the work that bad?" I gave a dry laugh which he returned.  
"Nah, it's not all bad, it's just very... Samey, yknow? It's the practical stuff that's actually worth your time. Though, it can be dangerous, so I'd advise not getting too excited when you finally get a call. Wouldn't want a pretty lady like you charging in and getting hurt." He grinned at me, and I recoiled internally. Yep, definitely one of those types.. still, while I was tired of dealing with them, at least I knew how to handle them, so I tried to bite my tongue a little longer.

"Haha.. yeah, well, I have been trained, so no need to worry, really... Anyway, what's your name?" I asked, trying to change the subject as quickly as humanly possible.  
"Detective Reed, but you can call me Gavin if you like." He smiled again. I gave a slightly forced one in return.  
"Nice to meet you, Detective Reed. I'm y/n." 

I looked up for a moment to avoid the sweep of his gaze to see movement the other side of the room. I caught sight of Captain Fowler and quickly stood straight.  
"Oh, well, there he is! Better go. Nice meeting you!" I called as I rushed off in a manor I hoped didn't betray my obvious discomfort.

By the time I got to the set of large glass doors, Captain Fowler was already seated again inside the office. I pushed the door open slowly and smiled at him as I walked in.

He stood up and shook my hand, greeting me.  
"Nice to finally start work with you." He smiled briefly and handed me something.  
"Here's your credentials. Now, I'd like to make this quick so that you can get to work as soon as possible, if that's alright. There's a lot happening at the moment, and frankly, we're desperate for new recruits."

I smiled and tucked the wallet he'd handed me away.  
"I understand completely, captain. I'm eager to start work too." 

I'm lucky Sam taught me all these people skills before I moved to Detroit. God knows I wouldn't have had a clue how to land a job this high profile if not. Just smile and concede, she'd told me, smile and concede, and you'll be fine. Seemed to be working so far.

"You'll be assigned to a case immediately; your qualifications line up, and were down a few men due to the casualties experienced on the last case. I hope you don't mind being thrown into this so fast." 

"Not at all." I shook my head.

"Good," he went on. "Now, the head authority of this case retired recently - a real kick in the face considering how badly things are going despite that - but his partner is doing a good job taking his place for the time being. While we look for more men to assist him, I'd like to have you work alongside him. It'll be good for him to have some more support, and a good chance for you to learn. It's a lot of responsibility, such a big case, but I trust you can handle it." Fowler slid some files over to me as he spoke, details on the case in question and the men currently assigned to it. I flicked through until I found the head authority. 

"Connor... No surname listed. Oh, is he an android?" I muttered as I browsed his file. Fowler nodded.  
"He worked here before the Liberation, but he chose to stay even after that. He's loyal, if nothing else." 

It had always surprised me how some androids continued doing the jobs they'd been forced into before the Liberation even once they'd gotten their freedom. Was it fear that kept them there, or genuine passion? I guess the case for this android could only be determined upon meeting him. Which I should probably get to doing if Fowler wants me to start right away, I thought.

I picked up the files and gave one last slightly forced smile.  
"Thank you for the opportunity, Captain Fowler. I'll get to work now." He nodded, and I left the room.

I grit my teeth and began weaving through the maze of desks, dodging people and androids alike as I went. As I passed, I read the name plaque on each table, feeling my stress at the hectic work environment mounting at around desk number eleven. Finally, though, I found the desk I was looking for, and thankfully, it was somewhat set aside from the bustle of the workplace.

I breathed a sigh of relief and looked up, expecting to see someone seated at the desk I'd finally managed to locate. However, I was the only person in this little pocket of peace. I took the opportunity to lean heavily against the wall, letting out a small sign. My nerves only got a split second to relax, though, before a chuckle from behind my shoulder roused me to attention. I whipped around.

"It's y/n to meet you, I'm nice!... Nice to... Meet you, I'm y/n." I internally kicked myself for that little spectacle. However, the man just laughed again, and upon plucking up the courage to look him in the eyes, I realised he was exactly who I'd been looking for.

"Oh! You must be Connor! I was just looking for you, sir!" He smiled pleasantly at me and replied.  
"And you must be the new rookie I'm in charge of. It's nice to meet you, detective l/n." 

It still felt odd being called a detective, my previous jobs had never been something so elite. Connor plucked some files from his desk and plucked through them, pushing back his brown hair in the process.

"Did you read the case file yet?" He asked.  
"Most of it. Androids are being found dead across Detroit with specific biocomponents missing, right?"  
"Essentially. The most recent case was actually pretty close by. I was thinking of checking it out with a couple of my men, but considering its a safe area, perhaps you and I will be fine to go it alone. I mean, I don't want to throw you in all at once, but my old partner was always one for 'show don't tell', and I agree with him. Just make sure you're armed, of course." I gave a nervous smile and tapped the hand gun at my waist.  
"'Course!" I did my best to drive the nerves out my voice. I'd been in greater danger than a little poking around, but it was the speed of everything that astounded me. Just smile and concede, y/n. You've gotten through worse than a hectic work day.

The crime scene really didn't look like much of a crime scene. It was a small, tidy apartment with sparse furnishings. It belonged to an Android, Elizabeth, who'd been found two days ago with four of her biocomponents missing. As we entered the house, the smell of lavender hit me, very subtlety. Lots of androids have lavender perfumes in their homes, something about the chemical composition being complimentary to their sensors... Pretty alien considering humans chose favourites seemingly at random.

As I moved around the room, I scanned the ground for anything that might be of help. I was good at being observant, but that was mainly to keep myself discreet, not to spot things that had been hidden away themselves. I called over my shoulder to Connor, who was rummaging through the bathroom nearby.

"Uh, hey Connor? I don't think I can find anything.. Sorry..."  
"That's okay, detective l/n! Just look somewhere else for now. There's something stuck under here..." His voice trailed off, and I turned to see him knelt in front of the bathtub, trying to pry something out from underneath it.

I headed into the bedroom, a small room with a single bed. A large mirror occupied most of one wall, and more lavender sat in a vase on the dresser, next to a couple of crayons. I inspected them, wondering what they were doing in an adult Android's home. They were peculiar, definitely, but I couldn't get any sort of lead out of them myself, so I placed them down. I pulled one of the draws open. Just underwear. I opened the next one down, but the clothes in there seemed ordinary too. I shook my head. No, come on y/n, think like a detective. I stared at the clothes. Just dress shirts and pencil skirts, a couple of fancy blazers here and there. I furrowed my brow. I shifted the fancy clothes aside. Just more work clothes. And under that, yet more. Only in the bottom draw did I find any casual clothes at all, and they didn't seem as well worn as the business clothes. She was a business woman. Someone important. Was there a chance this crime was politically motivated? Did she know some big government secret? Is whoever killed her in some sort of position of power, or are they--

"Find anything?"  
"I HAVE IT, DON'T SHOOT!" 

"Excuse me?" Connor tilted his head at me. I shook myself.  
"Yeah, sorry. I uh, I found something, yeah." 

I showed Connor the drawers.  
"It's mainly business clothes in here. And what few casual clothes she did own don't look particularly well worn. My guess is she was some sort of business woman, perhaps a politician. I was wondering if maybe the crime was politically motivated? If she knew some big government conspiracy or something. Wh-what do you think?"

Connor smiled and studied the clothes.  
"That would make sense. The clothes have traces of bleach, suggesting they've been treated for stains many times. They must be old and well used, you're right. Since they're old, she can't have been well off enough to buy new suits very often, so she must have been a low level political or business woman. As for the crime being politically motivated... I can't find any evidence to suggest that right now, but it's a good lead. Good job, detective!" He beamed at me. I returned the gesture. It was good to know I could at least keep up, no matter how stressed I was.

"Of course, it's entirely impossible since Elizabeth was a car saleswoman, but it's good to know you're somewhat skilled, at least."

"What!? I mean, how? Where's the evidence?" I stumbled around the house, pulling open draws as though I expected to find tiny little car figurines inside. Connor just laughed from the doorway.  
"You think victim reports don't exist? Didn't they train you before bringing you out here?"  
"I mean- well I, I already had the qualifications, so--"  
"What school did you go to? Or are you just rusty after being out of the job?" He came over and tapped me lightly on the head.  
"Besides, Androids can see a person's personal data just by looking at them, if they want. A quick autopsy or just seeing a photo of her was all I needed to determine Elizabeth was not a business woman anyone would have political interest in killing." He smiled at me. "Don't look so disappointed! Lucky for us, I found a real lead! Come on."

I begrudgingly followed Connor into the bathroom. From under the sink he had pulled a wedge of paper, which he unrolled in front of me. He read it aloud, even though I could read it just fine despite the messy handwriting.

"You have seven days. Renounce your Android or we will take it by force. Mr. Rogers will take good care of you. Time is ticking.  
\- Uncle Mick" 

Conner furrowed his brows, the LED on the side of his head flickering. It was an odd thing to see up close, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out and touching it. He stood up, still clutching the paper.

"Uncle Mick? Renounce your Android? But... Elizabeth /was/ an Android. How could that..." I considered mentioning the crayons, but before I could, something crashed overhead. We both looked up.

"Gunshots." Connor said as a few loud bangs echoed down to us. He took off quite suddenly, barreling up into the apartment above us. I burst in through the door after him, my heart racing. The stress just kept mounting, but at this critical mass, it felt almost familiar. Comforting. Maybe the secret to getting me to work well under pressure was just to apply enough of it. 

I looked around, realising I'd lost Connor. However, as a few more gunshots sounded to my left, I realised he hadn't gone far. I managed to stumble into the room he was in, to see him standing over an old woman who lay splayed on the floor. I didn't see Connor's eyes move, but it seemed he noticed me enter as he soon barked an order at me.  
"Check her for injury." He said. I hurried over and did so. 

Despite being shaken, she wasn't hurt. Well, she wasn't bleeding at least, which is my definition of hurt. I helped her to the exit, only for a bullet to wedge itself in the wood at my feet a second later.

"DON'T FUCKING MOVE!! I TOLD HER, SEVEN DAYS. I GAVE HER A WEEK! A PLACE TO STAY, MONEY, EVERYTHING A GIRL COULD WANT! AND YET ON PAYDAY, WHEN WE COME TO COLLECT, SHE'S FUCKIN GONE, AND WE GOTTA DO IT RIGHT THERE, MAKE A FUCKIN MESS. I KNOW SHE RAN TO YOU, YOU OLD HAG, THERE'S NOWHERE ELSE SHE COULD HAVE GONE." 

The man standing opposite Connor was middle aged, with blonde hair and a broken nose. I recognised him instantly as a Red Ice Dealer. Seasoned, probably respected. I shot a glance back at Connor. He looked confused.

"Who is 'she'? Was... Someone else staying with Elizabeth before she died? The records said she lived alone..."

"There was a child." I piped up. "Elizabeth was caring for a human girl. She must have been an orphan or something, to not show up on records. Explains why she didn't have many belongings in the house. But there were crayons. I found them in Elizabeth's bedroom."

Somehow, Connor managed to smile.

"That's who the note was for. She had to give up her only family to this harvester."

"Don't you fuckin call me that, you whore! Don't you know who I am!?" The blonde man barked. I narrowed my eyes at him. Connor took a step towards me.

"You're a Red Ice Dealer. You wanted that Android for her Thirium, didn't you? I knew it. I can tell your kind in an instant. Blue stains on your fingertips," his hands shifted around the gun. "Scars and bruising around your nose and face," he wiped at his lips. "You threatened a child so you could get high." 

He fired another round at me, but it only grazed my arm. Years of building up reflexes isn't useless, I guess. I fired two shots into his shoulder before I could think, sending him tumbling to the ground. Connor spared me an anxious glance before crossing the room to the downed man.

"Where's the girl?" He growled. It sounded strange, hearing Connor speak so coldly. He seemed like a pretty friendly guy up until now.  
"The fuck would I tell you?"  
"Because she's no use to you now anyway, you got your blue blood. Now you only want to kill her for revenge. Oh, and," he pressed his foot into the man's bleeding shoulder and lined his gun up to his head.  
"Androids have impeccable aim." 

If I hadn't been recovering from the aftermath of being shot at, I'd laugh at just how cliché that line sounded. Instead, I simply watched as the man weighed his options, eventually sighing and saying,  
"Well, like I said, she's definitely here. Knew this old bitch most of her life, definitely ran here when the heat was on." Connor called to me without looking up.

"Detective, you go search for the girl. Evacuate her using another route. I'll take care of him." 

"What about her?" I asked, gesturing to the old woman still on her knees behind me. Connor finally turned his head to face her.

"Can you stand?" He asked. She nodded weakly.

"Take her with you." 

I did as he said, exiting the room tentatively as Connor stared the injured man down. Once I was safely out, I turned to the old woman.

"Any idea where she could be?" She shook her head, either genuinely clueless or too shaken up to answer. I tried another question.  
"What's her name?" The old woman swallowed hard, but spoke.  
"Nadia." I nodded.

I searched the house, opening doors and calling to Nadia as I went. When I finally found her, it was only at the last second. I was about to shut the door on what I believed was yet another empty room, when I caught sight of a little girl curled up by the bathtub in the bathroom. I stepped inside, careful not to move too quickly.

"Nadia?" I asked. She flinched and whipped around, wide eyed. I crouched down slightly as not to intimidate her. "Hey, it's okay. My name's y/n, I'm a police officer. I'm here to get you out." I held out my hand. She shuffled towards me and stood up. 

"How old are you, sweetheart?" I asked. She studied the floor for a moment.  
"Nine." She eventually replied. My stomach flared with anger and guilt. She's fucking nine, and you did this to her? I took her hand in mine and left the room.

"Wait!" She said as we reached the hallway. "I.. I need my medicine." She looked back at the bathroom.  
"Medicine?" I asked.  
"For my head." She muttered.  
"Post traumatic stress..." The old lady muttered. I nodded my head.  
"We should be quick, Nadia. Do you know another way out besides the front?" We hurried back to the bathroom and retrieved a few pill bottles. It suddenly occured to me why the note was in the bathroom. They must have hidden it with Nadia's meds so she'd be the one to find it... Fucking sickos.

"Uhm... There's the fire escape, right auntie?" She gazed up at the old woman. She nodded. I smiled slightly.  
"Alright, take us there."  
"But missy, you're bleeding!" Nadia suddenly announced. I glanced at my arm, still dripping blood from where the bullet had grazed it. The pain was pretty easy to ignore. I chuckled and looked Nadia over.  
"And what about you?" I retorted, noticing a scrape on her knee. "Where'd you get that scrape sweetheart?" Nadia looked at the ground.  
"When I was running from the scary noises, I tripped and fell." I smiled and untied my hoodie from around my waist, tearing the pocket off.  
"Missy, don't! Your pretty clothes!" I chuckled.  
"Don't worry, all my clothes are ruined anyway. Here." I tied the scrap of fabric around her thin leg, securing my jacket around my waist again once I was done.

"Now, we should get out of here."

Climbing down a fire escape with a frightened old woman and a petrified little girl took longer than I expected. When we finally reached the bottom, I clicked the button on the side of my radio.  
"Connor? Do you hear me? I mean, uh-- come in, Connor. Hostages safely evacuated. Awaiting further instructions." I let go of the button. 

"... Over." I added, perhaps a little too late, but better than never. A few seconds passed before I heard Connor reply.

"I called a car for the shooter, and there's one out front for the hostages and yourself. Go and get your arm treated, I'm going to stay and collect evidence here. Over." I began heading to the front of the house with the girls. I lifted the radio.

"Alright. Sorry I couldn't have been of more help. I should have mentioned the crayons things sooner. It's just been really stressful, being thrown into this. I'm not used to such lively jobs. Over." 

The receiver crackled.  
"Are-are you kidding? You evacuated two hostages and neutralised a threat on your first day. Keep it up like this and you'll end up more renouned than Hank was in his glory days. Out." He chuckled as he ended the conversation. I helped Nadia and the old woman into the back of the car out front and joined the driver in the passenger seat. It was only when he spoke in that sleazy voice of his that I realised who he was.

"Yeesh, that's a pretty nasty wound, y/n. You want me to patch you up back at the station?" "I'm alright, thanks, detective Reed. I'll tend it myself."

He laughed dully as he started the car. "Aw, come on, it's your first day and you got hurt! You shouldn't have to clean it up by yourself-" "I said I'm fine." I was too exhausted after that adrenaline high to bother even feigning politeness. He shifted uncomfortably at my harsh tone and fixed his eyes back on the road.

"That tin can still lurking around the scene?" He eventually said in order to break the silence. I winced at the term. It still tasted recent on my tongue, but none the less bitter. I'd resigned myself never to let such vile words leave my mouth again once I moved here, and though I liked to pretend it was solely because that was the right thing to do, I couldn't ignore the fact my job would be in danger if I kept using that vernacular. Though, it seemed Reed didn't have any issue with it...

"You shouldn't call him that," I chided. "And I'm sure whatever he stuck around to investigate was important."

"Pssht, yeah right. He likes to pretend he's a good cop, but he actually sucks. I mean, he's a just a computer after all. A tool--"

"That language is inappropriate for the current state of things, Reed. It's... It's always inappropriate. How someone as narrow-minded as you ever became a police officer eludes me, and if anyone deserved to be kicked the curb for uselessness it should be you. Thank you for the ride."

I exited the car as quickly as possible. We'd stopped at a red light a block away from the depot. It was perhaps a little rash of me to just leave like that, but spending another second in that car with him was enough to make me want to bash my head against the dashboard. I'd heard that same spiel from all the other guys like him, and since I wanted Detroit to be my official new start, I wasn't going to put up with it anymore.

I turned and watch Gavin pull away, dumfounded, Nadia and the old woman watching me from the back. The afternoon air was growing cold, so I pulled my jacket up over my shoulders, trying to ignore the looks I got when people noticed the jacket's pocket had been ripped clean off. It wasn't like I often looked much better... I should stop by a clothes store and restock my wardrobe if I really wanted to do some serious reinventing. Maybe I'd start wearing jorts. I suppressed a shudder. There were standards even I wouldn't lower myself to...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back lmao. Turns out I actually have one single iota of motivation for this story (even tho I published the first chapter mOnths ago) so here! Chapter two! Please enjoy! Also the reader has PTSD symptoms for plot reasons, so please don't think it's just a weird qUirky trait I'm giving them ;-;
> 
> TW -  
> mentions of being shot  
> child manipulation (I don't think it's grooming as the intent wasn't sexual, but be aware)  
> PTSD mention  
> mention of murder  
> mention of racism towards androids

The day came humid and sultry. The briskness if the night before had dissipated, as though the summer was making one final push before autumn fully secured its grip on the city.

The first thing I noticed that morning was the heat. The second thing I noticed was the open gunshot wound in my arm.

I'd slept in my clothes; they'd been ruined anyway after tearing them party to shreds the night before, so resigning them to pajama duty seemed only appropriate. What I'd forgotten to think about was how the human body, you know, bleeds when you shoot it with a magnum forty-four right in the side of the arm.

Wounds were no stranger to me. Hell, even the pain of getting shot had become negligible in the heat of the moment, providing the wound wasn't anywhere important. I wasn't superhuman though, and not only had the blood now completely ruined my jacket, it also now stood a fairly good chance of being infected. So, I pulled on a vest - which, luckily, the weather allowed - and some shorts (the non-jean kind) and beaded to work as quickly as I could.

Walking through Detroit with a bloody, somewhat-already-used bandage wrapped around your bleeding arm is an... Interesting choice. But one I made all the same, enduring the odd looks until I arrived at the depot, on time today! Hoorah...

I entered the building and made my way to Connor's desk, not missing the way Gavin's eyes snagged on me as I passed. Thank God he didn't persue me, I thought as I caught sight of Connor.

"Heya!" I greeted. "Hot, isn't it?" I internally kicked myself from bringing up the /weather/ before my /possibly infected gunshot wound/. Connor just laughed, taking my incapability as some sort of joke.

"That it is. Your arm doing okay? Did you not get it cleaned up after last night?" He looked concerned, almost protective. It was sort of weird to see an Android so concerned.  
"Yeah, no, uh... Urgent.. business, I uh, had to get home." I tried not to cast my glance behind me to the "urgent business" still ogling me from his desk.

"Anyway! Where can I patch myself up? I'll just need some fresh bandages and maybe some saline solution, if you have it. I can make do with tap water though, if not."

Connor gave me a look as though he was trying to figure out if this was another joke or not. He narrowed his brows and eventually stuttered out;  
"I-I mean... We have Hydrogen Peroxide and gauze, as well as various ointment, stitches, sutures, and staples. We also have zip-stitches and slings somewhere... I can call a medic to help you with it if you like?" 

I lapsed into silence, realising my rudimentary ways of patching myself up probably seemed suspect to a trained professional like Connor. It's not my fault medicine was costly, and before this my income had been.... Changeable. I shook my head slightly.

"I mean, I'm more than capable of doing it on my own. Besides, I've met so many new faces in the last day and a half, I don't think I can stomach introducing myself to yet another person here." 

If Connor didn't look concerned before, he certainly did now. He reached out and touched me lightly on the shoulder.

"Well, I can always help you! I'm not all that experienced with tending human wounds; Androids don't feel pain, so I'm often... Insensitive... But I'm very precise!" 

"Trust me, pain doesn't bother me. Hell, I hardly ever use painkillers when I need to patch myself up!" Another bout of pregnant silence.

"Of course that was ages ago!! I do everything, very, uh, yep I do everything right now! I dot my 'i's and, cross them 't's, that's me!" Sometimes I really need to learn how to shut the fuck up. 

"So, what did you conclude after your search the other day? We should have all the info we need now, right?"  
"Pretty much... It isn't tons though."

I sat and flicked through the file report again. One of us would probably have to update it later; Captain Fowler would probably want me to do it for practice's sake. What a drag. 

"Elizabeth was killed my Red Ice Dealers. They harvested the biocomponents that hold the most Thirium-"  
"Biocomponents 9474, 8451, and 8465w." I interjected.  
"That's right. They then ship that Thirium to dens where it's processed into Red Ice."  
"How'd you know that?" I winced as Connor injected anaesthetic into my arm.  
"The shooter I apprehended had no Red Ice on him. I found his place of residence from his file and found only liminal traces there too. That suggests there must be organised dens where the majority of Thirium and Red Ice is kept."  
"Very clever, mister detective man~" I cooed, watching with morbid curiousity as Connor picked dirt out if my wound.

"At the time of her death, Elizabeth was housing an orphaned child named Nadia. We haven't conducted a proper interrogation yet, but we think her parents were killed sometime during the Liberation. She'd been living with Elizabeth since then, and also knows the woman who lived above them, Miss Rodriguez."  
"Nice lady." I did absentmindedly as Connor dabbed Hydrogen Peroxide into the mess that was my arm. His touch was strangely gentle, though my feeling in that arm was mostly numb. I have no idea what he meant when he said he was insensitive.

"The Red Ice dealers thought Elizabeth to be Nadia's property, despite her young age. They bribed her at first, offering her a good life with one of their lackeys, Michael Sande, by slipping notes into her PTSD medication bottles. She's been taking a combination of drugs for about two years after the death of her parents."

"Poor kid. I mean, my parents were never amazing, but I least they're still around." Won't talk to me now, though, I added to myself, so really what's the difference?

"Mm... I can't imagine what it must be like for her." Connor started preparing fresh bandages beside me.

"You can't? I mean, it's just... You're an Android, you don't really... Have parents, do you?" I felt awkward asking such a question, not knowing whether it not it was inappropriate. Connor didn't seem to think so, and went on with a fondness I didn't expect from him.

"Well, not really. But the man I live with - Hank Anderson - he's sort of like a father to me in a way. He keeps telling me I should take his last name and officially become his relative." He laughed again, in that melodious tone of his. For a moment I was silence as he began to wrap bandages around my arm.

That's sweet, Connor." 

"When Nadia was unable to give Elizabeth over to the dealers, they broke in and murdered her inside her home. Nadia fled to Miss Rodriguez's apartment and hid there for two days. It was then, after the Thirium has been transported away, that the dealer came back for revenge."

"Enter us, the valiant heroes."

"That's pretty much it. All we have to do now is use the information from the other cases to try and figure out where these dens are. If we do that, we can trace the chain to the top and take down the operation from the inside."

"Sounds like a breeze." I chuffed joylessly. Connor stood up, his handiwork done and my arm safely secured in a clean bandage.

"That, and take care of the hostages. We still need their reports and figure out a place for Nadia to stay. She can stay with Rodriguez for a while, but it isn't perminant."

"The anaesthetic will take a while to ware off, why don't you go talk to them now? You won't have to write anything down; the whole thing will be recorded for you." He said with a smile.

"Okay." I said, standing up and giving my arm a experimental flex. Felt pretty good, though I couldn't exactly feel much of it with how numb it still was.

"Hey Connor," I called as he made his way to the door. His LED flashed again, and it brought another little flash of happiness to me.  
"Thank you." 

He beamed.  
"No problem! Take better care of yourself from now on, okay? You're a good detective, I can't have you getting torn apart on me."

With that, he left, and I made my way to the interrogation room.

Miss Rodriguez and Nadia were being kept in the most comfortable cells in depot, from what I could see. Not that unexpected anything else.

Nadia was sitting on a plush looking bed, her feet dangling a short way above the ground. Her gaze was on the bare concrete floor, her thick, black hair obscuring her expression. Miss Rodriguez was sat in a wooden chair opposite her, worrying at her dress between here old, worn hands. Every so often, she would glance at Nadia before looking away again, a look of intense shame flashing across her face. God, I know that look, I thought.

I tapped on the glass divider lightly. The two jumped at the noise as I unlocked the cell. I beckoned Miss Rodriguez out first, and she approached me on slow, aged feet, casting concerned glances back at Nadia as she went.

"She'll be fine." I assured her as I closed the door again and led the old woman to the confessional.

I ushered her forward into the barren room as I tried to figure out how to get the recording equipment on the outside working. After about three minutes of hopelessly pushing buttons, I was beginning to worry I would have to go and ask someone like Gavin for help. Yet, at the last experimental button push, the audio equipment crackled to life and the screen's timer started ticking up. I have a small sigh of relief and entered after her.

I sat down at the table opposite her. She wouldn't meet my eyes. I recited off the time, date, and names of both people present to the microphone I knew was listening, and then mulled over my first question.

Bet to start from the beginning I suppose.

"When did Elizabeth move in underneath you?" Miss Rodriguez gave a shaky sort of sigh, but spoke nonetheless.  
"It was about three and a half years ago. The Liberation wasn't done yet, but she was able to buy some property and decided to settle down after years of fighting." Her voice sounded hoarse and raw, as though it either hadn't been used in a while or had been used far too much in a short space of time. Probably the former, I imagined.

"So Elizabeth actually fought in the Liberation herself? When did Nadia join her? How much exactly do you know about the girl?" 

The woman's face was a contortion of pity.  
"Nadia came about eight months after Elizabeth. She'd lost her parents in the Liberation - they were civilian casualties I believe. Oh, she was a poor, poor thing. All battered up and cold, sick too... Been living on the streets for about two months before she wandered in." I offered Rodriguez my hand. She stroked it gently.

"Elizabeth was fitter than me, and her original purpose was actually child care. So she took the child, and I was just a neighbor. Sometimes, though, Nadia would come visit me, and we would make together." She smiled a gummy smile which I returned, genuine fondness crawling up my heart. I remember baking with my parents. I haven't baked in ages now, I usually just eat takeout or pot noodles.

"It sounds like you two were still close. Did Elizabeth encounter any trouble before Nadia came to stay?" The old woman's brow creased a bit.  
"I don't think so... A few threats from people still fighting in the war, maybe, but many Androids got their fair share of those from dissenters, lousy gits. What's so bad about them being free anyhow? They're like us, in a way. In lots of ways..." 

I averted my gaze briefly. I wish I could say I'd always been in favour of the Liberation, but that would be an injustice to the people I'd hurt during the time when I didn't. I felt guilt slowly try to drown me, pushing hard against old defences begining to wear thin. No, I thought, come on. New start, remember? I have to out this behind me.

"And did you notice anything happening after Nadia arrived?" 

"Sometimes, a man..." Rodriguez seemed to rack her memory.  
"A man with dark hair would come, bring her gifts or trinkets. He never spoke much to me, but he knew I was a friend of theirs." 

"Do you know his name? Could you describe him to me?" I tried to lean back in my chair to get a better look at the timer on the outside, to make sure it was still running. This guy's info could be a valuable piece in the puzzle that was this case.

"I think... Nadia called him 'Uncle Mick', or something like that. I don't really remember much of how he looked apart from dark hair and shaggy clothes, though. I'm sorry." She looked ashamed, and I shook my head.

"Don't be. You've given us lots of useful information already. I only have few more questions." 

She nodded.

"You're retired, aren't you? You were at home a lot? What did Nadia do when Elizabeth was working? Did she go to school? Did she get any visitors then?"  
"She didn't go to school; Elizabeth was trying to save up to have her adopted so she could enroll her. She loved that child, as much as my mama loved me. The poor girl, she must be distraught." 

I allowed her to sit in silence for a moment before she continued.

"She sometimes went out to play, and during that time I would occasionally hear people moving around near their apartment. I would go down to check if everything was alright, but they were always gone by the time I got down there. I'm not quite as quick as I used to be." I nodded. So people /were/ breaking in to leave notes for Nadia. They must've known her schedule really well, or lived where they could see her, in order to know when she was out of the way. Is have to check whether the man Connor apprehended last night lived nearby - Connor said he found his apartment after all. If he did, he could've been one of the people sneaking inside. If not, he was likely a higher up, someone sent to kill Elizabeth but not get involved with the preparations beforehand. 

"And, one more thing, Miss Rodriguez. Could you recount to me the events of last night? When you were attacked?"

She drew I'm a long breath.

"I'll try."

"Nadia had come to me two days before, but she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. It's a PTSD thing, I think, not telling people when something bad happens to you."

"Avoidance and emotional numbing." I said. "I have some symptoms myself from time to time." 

"I wanted to go talk to Elizabeth, but Nadia really didn't want me to go. I eventually got her to tell me what happened, but all she would say is that Elizabeth had died. She didn't say she was murdered, didn't say where she was now, nothing. So I didn't do anything. Didn't go down to check, didn't call anyone. I didn't want to upset her anymore. I only went down once, to get her medication, but the body must've been somewhere else, because I didn't see it. Didn't even see any blue blood. There wasn't much sign of a struggle at all. I didn't really know it was a murder until last night."

"I was trying to clean up when I heard banging downstairs. I thought maybe someone was in a rush, but then I heard shouting. Whoever it was sounded angry. As the sounds got closer, I told Nadia to go and hide. I was planning on sending them away, but they didn't even knock. He just kicked my door in and started demanding I show him the girl. I told him again and again that I didn't know any girl, that I didn't know where she was or even her name, but he kicked and started pointing his gun at me. I didn't know what to do, I was thinking of just giving myself up, but then they'd just search the house and find Nadia anyway. That's when," she smiled at me, tears streaming down her face. I hadn't noticed she'd started crying; I was too focused on the information. I felt bad.

"That's when you showed up. You saved my life. You saved Nadia's life. I can't thank you enough." She took my hand again and kissed it. I smiled softly.

"It's nothing at all, miss." 

We sat like that for a moment.

"Now, let's get you back to the cell. I'll interview Nadia next-"

"-no, please... Let her rest. Her symptoms are worse the more recent the bad thing happened, and she can't sleep well when she's like this. It'll be easier to talk to her in a few day's time."

I thought for a moment. A few days wouldn't delay the investigation too much, not when we had various other leads to follow. Or at least, I hoped we did. Connor has simply mentioned "information", but whether any of it would actually be all that useful was yet to be decided.

I showed miss Rodriguez back to her cell. I thought about leaving, but turned to stay at the last second. I approached Nadia, sitting down carefully on the bed beside her. She'd hardly moved from where she was when I last saw her, and she was rocking ever so slightly.

"Aren't you warm?" I asked. How was she wearing a jacket in heat like this? A few seconds passed, but I got no answer.

"Do you want me to bring you a change of clothes? You'll have to stay here for a little bit, and I don't want you getting dirty." Again, no answer.

"Alright... You tell Miss Rodriguez if you need anything, then, okay? And I'll get it for you." I stood and made to leave properly this time, only to catch Nadia's soft, light voice as I pulled the door closed.

"Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA SORRY IT'S BEEN A HOT SECOND. I was kinda super mega busy with exams and then Christmas and more exams literally I'm a few weeks. But here! New chapter home dawgs! Sorry if the plot is getting confusing,,, it's a pain to reread the entire thing before I write to make sure everything's consistent, so I just sorta skim read and hope I'm not messing up too much? Very professional I know. Anyway, this is just the first pass, and I'm more focused on getting the thing finished than making it 100% cleanly polished. I'm also trying to pace the romance okay,, because I don't want it to start too soon but I also don't want you guys to get bored. So yeah. If you're confused or unhappy or literally anything, I'd really appreciate if you left a comment! I'd love to chat with you guys ^^ even if it's just something simple like "this is good so far!", It'll give me more motivation to keep going, so don't be shy! 
> 
> Anyway I'll shut up now have your robot boy:
> 
> TW -   
> mention of being shot  
> PTSD  
> PTSD attack (not first person)  
> implied child manipulation (I don't think it's grooming as the intent wasn't sexual, but be aware)  
> mention of racism towards androids

It was dark. It was dark and cold and the air stank of great decay. I could hear Sam walking in front of me, her shoes tapping carefully on the wooden floorboards as we traversed the house.

"He's in here." I heard her whisper, her voice a familiar echo that reverberated off the high, rotting walls. She drew her gun and looked at me. I blinked to steady myself.

"Ready?" She asked, and dared to smirk at me. I nodded somewhat shakily.  
"Ready." I replied.

She kicked down the door in a determined burst; the hinges gave way immediately, their rust-covered, long-atrophied strength no match for the heel of her boot. The man inside turned to us immediately, eyes ablaze with vitriol and anger.

"Now!" Sam yelled, raising her gun to the man's head. But before her finger could press down on the trigger, gloriously sending a bullet through the man's skull, another figure erupted from the shadows, silent and precise. It barely took him two seconds. Just two seconds, and Sam had a hole in her head. And then she was dead at my feet. And then I ran.

I woke with a start. For a moment, the dark convinced me I was still dreaming, but the feeling of my mattress below me and my thin layer of pajamas - I'd decided to wash the ruined jacket of blood before further use - assured me I was safely back in reality.

The dream had not been a memory. It had been a perverted distortion of one. Everything I had seen tattooed behind my eyes had really happened, accept Sam hadn't died that night. Somehow - miraculously - she had survived being shot in the head, with only a blinded eye and a scarred face to show for it. And the Toluene in her skull, but neither of us really liked to think about that...

I checked the time glowing softly from my alarm clock beside me. Five-oh-seven a.m, it read. I sighed and rubbed my temples. Too early to get ready for work. Hell, still to early to get out of bed. Instead, I pulled my phone from the nightstand and found Sam's contact.

'Hey' I shot her. It was only a few seconds before I got a reply.  
''Sup. I was about to sleep, you okay?'  
'Fine, don't worry. How are things back there? Sorry I haven't called.'

'It's okay. It's for the best. And things are fine. I've been getting less orders, and I've gotta be more careful now you're not here ,but I wouldn't ask for you to come back or anything... How's the whole fresh start turning out anyhow?' The message was staggered between multiple texts; something Sam often did when she was tired.

'Good, actually. The weather is mad here. Cold one second then hot the next... People are nice, though.'  
'They don't suspect anything?'  
'Don't think so. The Android I work with said something about seeing someone's info if he scans their face, but I can't see a reason why he'd have to do it to me.'  
'Yeah... Just be carful, alrighy? Your file might be gone, but there are stil thigs that can connect you to us in the end. If they get suspicous. Not to metion you not having a file could be just as shady as wat was on yours when it still existed.' Her typos were getting more frequent. She must be really beat.

'I'll be fine. Besides, he's a nice guy. Smart though, and that's always the problem.'  
'Never thought I'd se you gettig all buddy buddy with a cop. Let qlone an android one.'  
'Go to bed, Sam.' I chuckled under my breath, picturing her stumbling about her apartment, sleep-deprived and - most likely - drunk. Far too early to be drunk. Far to early to be working, too. Not that that ever stopped Sam. Not that it ever stopped me, before I left. Not like either of us ever had much choice in the matter anyhow.

'Alriiiight, alright. G'night, watch yourself okay?'

'You're in more danger now than I am. You should be the one promising me you'll be safe.' I countered.

The next message took a little longer to send, and I knew it wasn't because she was inebriated. 

'I wish I could, y/n.'

With that, I placed my phone back on the nightstand and checked the time again. Five-twenty-four. I guess I could get up now. Maybe unpack a bit more, actually eat a decent breakfast. My mind made somewhat reluctantly up, I hauled myself out of bed and busied myself amidst the lingering darkness. 

I hope that she'll be okay...

Nadia was in pretty much the same spot she'd been in the day before. She was sat, head down, eyes averted, on the bed near the corner of her cell. Miss Rodriguez sat beside her, her aged hands shakily undertaking the task of feeding herself. Nadia's plate was untouched beside her, and the old woman kept throwing her concerned glances as she ate.

"Good morning you two'" I greeted as I opened the cell. "I take it someone bought you food already?" Miss Rodriguez nodded, eying Nadia again. I creased my brows in worry and slipped the small backpack from my shoulders.

My extra time this morning had given me the chance to pack Nadia something more suitable for the current heat wave. 

I'd also packed an old jacket for once the weather inevitably resigned itself to a perminant chill. It was all far too big, of course, but it would be sufficient for the day or two more the pair would be stay here. I'd also slipped in a few candies I'd found in my bedside table on my way out. I was just praying to God they were still in date...

I took the clothes out and layed them out on the bed beside Nadia. Careful not to frighten her, I unfurled her small hand, dropping the tiny clear candies into her dark palm.

"I got these for you." I whispered. "I know the breakfast is probably yucky, so just eat some of these if you can, yeah?" On days I found myself losing my appetite, Sam would always toss me a packet of candy cigarettes to make sure I wasn't completely without sustinance for the day. Perhaps the same method would work here, I thought. A good ol' sugar bribe.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. I smiled and turned to Miss Rodriguez.

"I just need to borrow her for a few minutes. I'll ask her the same sort of questions I asked you." The old woman nodded and clasped my hands in hers suddenly. Her hands were warm and calloused, edged with memories. It was almost palpable, the longevity and wisdom of her soul.

"Thank you.... You are such a sweet girl... You're too kind, bringing her clothes like this."

"It's nothing at all. You'll be released in a few days anyhow, but feel free to keep them if she's short on clothing at all." Come to think of it, I really hadn't seen many children's clothes in Elizabeth's apartment. I knew they weren't incredibly well off, but the thought of Nadia wearing the same few sets of clothes every day for most her life was just insult to injury. She had to live on the street for months as it was, she at least deserved to have a good life once she made it off of them. But of course her hopes and been dashed yet again by some lowlife piece of scum too focused on his own bank account to give a shit about the lives he was ruining. He didn't even look that poor, not as poor as Sam was. Not as poor as I had been. At that point, money was barely an excuse anymore. 

I took Nadia's hand and slowly lead her into the confessional. I figured out the recording software faster this time, setting everything up as Nadia got settled on one side of the table.

When I joined her, her eyes were still glued to anything but me. It must be creepy, this room, especially if you'd never seen it before. It was sheer metal walls and unforgiving concrete flaws, a little coffin-box of a room. Trying my best to put her at ease, I extended my hand to her.

"Maybe it's a bit spooky in here... But don't worry, nothing bad's gonna happen. You aren't in trouble or anything. I just need to ask you some things, okay? And then soon, you can go home." I tried a reassuring smile.

"Where..." Nadia muttered. My ears perked up.  
"Hm?" I urged.  
"Where am I gonna live now?" She mumbled, her hands coming up to fiddle with her hair.  
"Now that Lizzy's not around..." 

I did my best to ignore the lurching in my heart.  
"Miss Rodriguez says she can look after you for a little bit." After that though, who knows? I guess it's back to being a full-time orphan, poor thing.

"Can you tell me about Lizzy? What was she like? Was she nice to you?" Nadia fidgeted for a moment.  
"Yeah... She was nice. She reminded me of my mama, a little bit." She finally said.  
"And what sort of things did you two do together?"  
"We, uhm, did flower picking. And, uhm, we... Did jigsaw puzzles a lot. Lizzy is good... Lizzy was really good at them." Explains how Elizabeth had so much lavender in her house, I guess.

"I see. And what did you do when Lizzy was at work? Did you go outside and play?"  
"Sometimes... Lizzy told me maybe I should be careful outside, though. So I only went when I felt like it."  
"And why's that?" Had Elizabeth suspected the dealers of spying on Nadia? If that was the case, why hadn't she contacted us? Maybe she thought they wouldn't offer help to an Android... I have no doubt /some/ people here would prove her tight in that regard...

"She said some people don't like Androids very much, so they might be mean to me if they knew we were friends."  
"And was anyone ever mean? Did anybody come to your house and say mean things to you or Lizzy?"  
Nadia went quiet for a moment and squirmed a bit in her seat. Shit, maybe I should waited longer to do this. 

Just as I was about to let Nadia go, content to continue the interrogation later, she replied.  
"They said I wasn't allowed to tell anyone."  
"You can tell me. I'll keep your secret, I promise." She still seemed skeptical, so extended my pinkie to her. She hooked her small one around mine. I smiled.

"There were some men.. sometimes they would come when Lizzy was in, but mostly they would leave notes."  
"And what did they say? Did they give you anything?" I remembered Miss Rodriguez mentioning one of the men giving Nadia gifts. I wondered if Nadia had anymore info on him in particular. Figuring out who orchestrated this whole order and who were merely lackeys was important if we wanted to make any worthwhile progress.

"H-he said, uhm, that he liked having Lizzy and me as neighbors, and he gave us presents like necklaces and-and earrings and stuff, and he said that he wanted to... Spend more time with me but that seemed really weird because when he left me notes he was being really mean. He said that I wasn't allowed to tell anyone, but he actually didn't like Lizzy and he wanted me to live with his friend i-instead. But I didn't want to be-because I liked Lizzy more than him or his friends. A-and then one day he left me a note and it said that I had seven days before they were gonna come and get Lizzy and I didn't know what they meant or anything but then they came--" She pulled her knees up to her chest, the tears streaming down her face at full force. She'd started crying halfway through her speech, but I'd been getting so much useful info I didn't tell her to stop. I stood from my place at the table and circled it, placing my hand gently on her shoulder.

"It's okay." I said, though how I expected her to believe it I have no idea. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, hoping her years would cease, but after three minutes of non-stop crying, it became obvious I wouldn't get any more info out of her that day. It was just as well; she was probably exhausted from reliving all of that. I wasn't even sure how much of the actual murder she'd remember, what with her PTSD and all. It was probably better to mark her for release and visit her again in her home a few days later. Trauma victims usually do better at recalling things when there in more comfortable environments, I figured, and god knows that cell didn't look comfortable at all.

I guided her back to the cell and let her collapse into Miss Rodriguez's arms. I apologized for the wait and for making her cry, but the old woman merely waved me off. She thanked me again when I told her my plan to have them released as soon as possible, and I double checked that it would be alright for me to visit them at a later date, should the need for Nadia's recount arise.

With a final farewell, I closed the cell door and turned around. For a moment I just stood, stock still, in the hallway, as though the two's combined emotional exhaustion had someone been imbued into me. 

I shook myself once and fixed my eyes straight ahead. It wasn't even past midday yet, my concentration couldn't be faltering this soon.

I navigated the winding halls and found my way to Connor's desk. 

"Everything okay? You look tired..." There was an odd note of concern in his voice. He couldn't be attached to me already, could he? I never made friends that quick... Come to think of it, Sam was probably the only person I could really call my friend anymore...

"Oh, uh, I'm fine. I tried interviewing Nadia but..  
She got kinda worked up. I'm thinking we could release her and visit her at a later date. Maybe she'll feel more comfortable sharing the truth when she's back somewhere familiar? If that's okay, of course." I explained.

Connor thought for a moment, his LED blinking yellow again. God it was so tempting to touch it. Like, what did it feel like? It was such a perfect circle, its like it was made to-

"Y/n?" Connor wrenched me from my thoughts. I flushed and refocused.

"S-sorry! Go on." 

He chuckled before continuing.

"I was asking if you managed to get anything useful at all."

"Oh! Yeah! She said Elizabeth warned her that some people still didn't like Androids, and that it wasn't safe to go out all the time. Nadia only went out when she felt like it. Which means whoever left notes for Nadia knew when she was in and when she was out. Since there was no schedule, they must've lived close by and been able to see her. It could've been Mick or Rogers leaving the notes, or both, since both Mrs. Rodriguez and Nadia confirmed two men at least being involved with Elizabeth. Oh! Didn't you search that blonde guy's house? Where was that? And did you get his name?"

Connor seemed taken aback by my sudden spew of information, but he wasted no time in replying.

"I did. He was the Mr. Rogers the note mentioned. He didn't live close enough to the crime scene to be either of the men leaving the notes, in fact he lived quite far away, so I doubt he was the other man involved with Elizabeth before her murder. He was probably only supposed to take Nadia in after the fact... Which means one of the note leavers must've been Mick, and the other must've been somebody else..."

"As for who killed her..." I added.

"We still don't know. It could've been anyone. Mick, Rogers, the other man living close by. It could be someone else entirely, called in just to do the dirty work." Connor finished.

"No." I shook my head slowly, the gears turning in my head. If I had an LED, no doubt it'd be blinking yellow right now.

"Think about it," I turned to Connor. "If Nadia didn't go out on a schedule, they'd have to kill Elizabeth as soon as they got the chance. They didn't know when the next one would come-"

"But the note. It clearly had a deadline, they planned the day it would happen-" Connor interjected. I shook my head.

"It's just a scare tactic-"

"But why would she leave Elizabeth at home alone if she knew something bad could happen? Wouldn't she try and protect her?"

"Elizabeth could've come back while Nadia was still out. Maybe Nadia didn't realise, and by the time she went in to check if Elizabeth had returned, she had. But she'd also been killed... And if the murder had to happen in such a quick time, it wouldn't make sense to call somebody else in. It would have to be one of the two men who already lived nearby. Anything else would be a waste of time." 

We both say in silence for a moment, thinking.

"We need to find where Rogers and the other man lived. We need their names... It's one of them, I'm certain. But how would we know who..?"

Connor chuckled from beside me. I glanced over.

"Well," he said, smiling lobsidedly over his shoulder at me. "That's where interrogation comes in."

I laughed a little at his devious tone - no pun intended - and leant back on the desk.

"Okay, that's a start then... God this is confusing." I rubbed my temples.

"You're amazing, though." He said. I looked up at him quickly, and he reddened a little.

"I mean-- you're doing amazing." He smiled curtly. I huffed.

"I do try, Connor. I do try."


End file.
